Walking Joan Home
by Sweet Danish Yummy
Summary: When Little Girl God walks Joan home after the episode Night Without Stars


Walking Joan Home  
  
Disclaimers: Don't own Joan of Arcadia, obviously, since if I did Joan and Adam would be happily ever after all ready. Shout out to the Television without Pity posters—see if you can find it.  
  
~x~x~x~  
  
Despite her remark, Joan was glad of the contact.  
  
Granted, the hand that held hers was not the one she'd coveted earlier—and there was no way she'd let her current companion hear her utter *that* thought. But it was contact, and Joan was discovering that her pain was running deeper than she could have imagined, and she needed that bond. The fact that the tiny hand she now held was that of her Creator was not lost on her.  
  
God lead her, and she followed. There was symbolism there—Joan did not miss it. She walked with God, yet in a way that she could only just comprehend He carried her as well.  
  
For a moment she understood, for a moment that stole her breath away she saw the significance of these events, but it passed, leaving her with a fuzzy, dizzy feeling that made her slow.  
  
God looked at her through the eyes of the small child, but did not offer her any words. God rarely did, unless He was telling her of her latest assignment. It never failed to shock her when He appeared, in apparently whatever form He wished, from a bearded dog walker who loved everyone, to a hot dog that passed out flyers to the public, to a darkly colorful being of light lounging in the school office, speaking to her in soft tones. Never did the assignments have a clear meaning, and never did He indulge her with an answer when she inquired after those illusive meanings. She was forever sent blind into the unknown, and often it scared her. Rarely, when it was all over, did God return and offer any insight or explanation. The pattern was easily spotted and Joan was finally beginning to relax into it, though it did not ease her apprehension at times.  
  
The silence filled the air between them, heavy with her unspoken questions. Unspoken because Joan knew she would not get an answer if she asked. She'd only be wasting her breath.  
  
"Do You not want me and Adam to...I mean...you know?"  
  
So much for saving her breath. Oh well. Not like God's little legs were setting a killer pace.  
  
"What do you mean, Joan?" The sweetly innocent tone was belied by the knowledge behind the thick glasses as the little girl looked up at her.  
  
"You know what I mean. First telling me to work with children, then making me cancel my date...or whatever...with Adam, causing him to ask out Iris, whom I might add he never would have met if you hadn't told me to sign up to work with the kids!"  
  
"You could have said no, Joan."  
  
"You keep saying that, but You're wrong."  
  
"Oh. Am I?" If Joan hadn't known better she would have thought God was smirking at her. But no, that had to be a play of the streetlight against the little girl's face.  
  
"Yes. I mean, I know You're supposed to be All-Knowing and never wrong..."  
  
"Infallible."  
  
"Whatever. But how can I say no to You, huh? Doesn't that automatically buy me a one-way ticket to a very hot afterlife?"  
  
"Joan, I've told you from the beginning that you have choices. These assignments I give you, they all have a purpose, some small, others so large that you cannot possibly understand them." The little girl paused as they reached an intersection and looked both ways before beginning to cross. "In each situation there is a choice to be made. That choice is always yours—it's called free will. One of My better ideas."  
  
"Yeah, that and cheese."  
  
God only smiled.  
  
"I know what free will is, but forgive me for thinking there's not much choice in these assignments You give me."  
  
"You're forgiven." Joan thought God would continue but He didn't. Just as the silence thought it had won, however, Joan spoke again. "So, do you not want me and Adam to...couple?"  
  
Little Girl God sighed. "Joan, you know by now that I don't answer questions."  
  
"Doesn't stop me from asking." Joan had never thought to be so snippy with God, but was finding the lack of information annoying. "What, are we not good for each other? Because, you know, I know way more about him than she does. She doesn't know about his mom—wait, does she? Has he told her about his mom already?"  
  
The little girl merely kept walking, her hand firmly grasping what little of Joan's hand she could.  
  
"He might have, but oh, no, he wouldn't, he waited so long to tell me and he didn't even *tell* me, not really anyway, and there's no way Adam would have opened up to Iris so quickly." Joan paused, thinking. "Though they both have that art thing, but there's no way they could be happy together because Adam's just...he needs...Adam is Adam, and Iris can't appreciate him!"  
  
"What makes you think that, Joan?"  
  
"Well, the thing is...they may SEEM the same, what with both of them hurt and with one parent and with the artistic outlet thing, but she would never get him."  
  
"And you think you get him?"  
  
Joan sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I don't know."  
  
"You know Iris well enough to know she could not offer Adam what he might need? You know Adam well enough to know what he needs, when he himself probably does not know the answer to this?" They had reached Joan's house and God let go of Joan's hand, moving to stand in front of her. The absence of God's hand made Joan feel a little empty, as if she'd lost something. As if reflexively trying to recover it her fingers curled, but it did not help. God had moved away from her, only physically, but it left a hole in her chest. She felt tears well in her eyes as she realized the comfort God had given her without Joan realizing it, and somehow this thought made her feel a little better. "One thing you must know, Joan, is that like you Adam is confused. By you, by Iris, by the world around him. He doesn't quite know where he belongs, but he's looking for it. Maybe Iris will help clarify something for him."  
  
"Is that why he's with her?"  
  
"You know why he's with her." She turned to leave, walking off into the night.  
  
"No I don't, that's why I asked!"  
  
She merely waved to Joan over her shoulder, a casually dismissive gesture that made Joan sigh in defeat. She would not see God again until He had something else for her to do.  
  
She let herself in quietly, peeking into the mutely lighted living room and seeing her mother and father sitting together on the couch, their low murmurs reaching her. She began to walk upstairs as her mother turned to see who had come in.  
  
"How were the kids, Joan?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Do you need anything?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Good night, Joan."  
  
"Night." She tossed her hand in her mother's direction, only belated realizing she had mimicked the wave she'd just received. Shaking her head, she went into her room and closed the door. 


End file.
